“What else would it be about?” I say, although of course I know. I was contemplating the same thing a minute ago.
“It’s about getting to the truth.” He pauses, eyeing me. “My shirt looks good on you,” he says, putting his hand on my hip.
His attraction to me is something I secretly love, but wish I didn’t. I push his hand away. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m the reason you missed getting flowers this morning. I’ll take care of that. What’s your favorite kind?”
“I don’t want flowers from you. If you want to do something for me, let me go.”
“Not yet.”
The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine and tingles through the private parts of me.
“Then I’ll go work on my classwork,” I say, knowing I need to get away from him before I give in to the attraction I’m trying to hide.
I wait for him to stop me, but he doesn’t say anything. I slide the duffle off the counter. When I turn, I half expect him to slap my ass. When he doesn’t, I don’t know whether I’m glad or disappointed.
* * *
Connor
I get updates from the guys all day. Leads are pursued, and people are ruled out.
I pull Trick from the neighbors and theater people the minute I learn about the ex. I’ve got a hunch, and I want Trick’s talents on it.
I pass the game room a few times. Zoe’s got her books and laptop on the poker table. She seems to be working hard, and I’m curious about the project, but I don’t interrupt.
The text I’m waiting for comes at three in the afternoon.
I’d sent Trick a text earlier in the day that only said:there’s an ex who shows up uninvited when he feels like it. Dennis Sanders.
Now he’s answered.
Trick:85%
By eighty-five percent, Trick means that he’s eighty-five percent sure that Zoe’s ex is one the guys who robbed us. Eighty-five percent sure from Trick is as good as a hundred.
I don’t text back. He’s not expecting me to.
Even on burner phones we don’t send many texts that relate to the darker side of our business. We’ll have a conversation later, somewhere secure. I’ll hear what he’s learned. And we’ll decide what comes next for Dennis Sanders.
Am I glad we’re almost at the end of the investigation? I am. Am I sorry that a guy who used to fuck Zoe is about to be on our hit list? No. I’m not.
I enter the game room. “How’s it going?”
She looks up and nods. “Good. I finished. I’m just proofreading my slides and making sure the videos play.”
“What’s the presentation about?” I ask.
“The Newport Jazz Festival. It’s for my Music History class.”
“Have you been to the Newport Jazz Festival?”
“No, but I’ve been to New Orleans Jazz Fest. And hopefully both NOLA and Chicago this coming year. We’ll see.”
“What does it depend on?”
“Money. And the timing of things.”
